Strip Tease and Gum Drops
by ct522
Summary: Dedicated to Jennibrolawrence (bookpeetatbh on tumblr) who requested a little fic involving a certain couple at the mercy of lady in an elevator who strips to her nothings and the drama that ensues. Set during Catching Fire. One-shot.


**Strip-tease and Gumdrops**

When the elevator stopped off on our floor, Katniss literally stomped away from me so quickly I barely made it to her bedroom door before it slammed shut in my face. I was dumbfounded. Honestly, how could I be held responsible for a grown woman deciding to strip down to nothing in front of us? And I looked. Does she even get what being presented with a perfect pair of real, live breasts means to a 17 year old? As I turned on my heel and went back to my room, I became more unsettled. She spent six months ignoring me, going off into the woods with Gale every Sunday, doing who knows what and she's begrudging me for something over which I had no control?

I froze at the entrance of my room, rooted to the ground by a sudden, intense flare up of anger. Who did she think she was, anyway, acting like that? I had half of a mind to go to her room and tell her a thing or two.

My thoughts took me to a happier place and I thought back on Johanna's breasts. They were large but not enormous, like perfectly formed, dewy raindrops. They looked heavy but firm, her nipples pink. The tips were rigid probably because of the climate controlled air in the elevator. There was no question – she was hot. She didn't have a wasted ounce on her muscular body, her curves filled out in all the right places.

But Johanna was not my type. She was too angry, too unstable. Really, who was I fooling? I had only one type and her name was Katniss Everdeen. As usual the only way I would caress her curves was maybe in my dreams.

Just thinking about Katniss brought all of my frustrations back to me. Her behavior was completely unpredictable and infuriating. I was in the middle of a very satisfying mental rant when I heard a bold knock on my door.

Expecting it to be Haymitch, I was completely taken aback to see two heavily made-up, grey-slitted eyes glaring back at me. Katniss looked like a cat ready to spring.

"Katniss!" I exclaimed in surprise. I barely uttered the last syllable of her name when she physically shoved me inside the room, almost knocking me over.

"What the hell was that for?" I said as she shut the door behind her.

"I don't find jokes at my expense to be very funny." She hissed.

"What are you talking about?" Her eyes flashed in the dim light of the room. The combined effect of her stormy gray eyes, the tight bodice of her dark parade dress and the smoky makeup suddenly conspired to make me feel physically uncomfortable.

"First there's Finnick creeping all over me with his sugar cubes and his 'secrets'" she hooded her eyes and pursed her lips, imitating his accent as she said the words. I had to repress the urge to chuckle, knowing it would probably earn me a slap, "then old Chaff just, _blech_…" she makes a gagging sound, her eyes virtually crossing in on themselves in disgust, "and Johanna stripping down to her _nothings_, practically throwing herself at you…and you weren't minding it one bit!"

"Whoa, Katniss, she wasn't throwing herself at me!" I tried to pacify her, though she really was a vision, her fists balled up, and her foot practically stamping the floor in anger.

"Giving you a three minute strip tease and an eyeful of her…" here she cupped her own breasts, which made a synapse misfire somewhere in my brain and I could sense the beginnings of a meltdown…"giant mammaries! That's not throwing herself at you?"

I shook my head to get the vision of Katniss grabbing herself out of my head. "First of all, her _mammaries _aren't giant…" her eyes became murderous at this point. Clearly, correcting factual misconceptions about the dimensions of Johanna's breasts was not what she'd come here for.

"Well they are huge when you have a set the size of gumdrops!" she screamed. As soon as the words left her mouth, she clamped a hand over her lips, an embarrassed flush spread over her face and neck, warring with the heat of her previous anger.

I hesitated a moment, the air pregnant with a thick, awkward silence. I didn't think Katniss even worried about those kinds of things.

"Katniss, your breasts are not the size of gumdrops. They're perfect. You're perfect." I said, a heat overtaking me as she instinctively looked down at herself then looked up at me sheepishly. I wanted to reach out and caress her reassuringly. I had never struggled so hard to control my hands as I did at that moment.

Her face was flaming red and, as she is so good at doing, she made a break for the door like a startled gazelle but even if the rest of her behavior could be completely unfathomable; there were some things about which she was refreshingly predictable. She was a regular prude when it came to some things and when she was that uncomfortable, she could do no better than to run.

Anticipating her reaction, I pushed on the door as soon as her hand made for the knob. Her flush deepened, mortification causing her chest to heave, those breasts she so took for granted stretching towards me as if they knew I would do anything to get lost in them.

"Tell me what your real problem is and I'll let you go." I said, my skin so close to her temple that the warmth of my own breath redoubled back towards me.

Katniss' face lost its edgy anger, becoming confused and so heart-breakingly vulnerable, I had to resist the urge to take her into my arms. I stood fast and waited instead.

"I…I was just mad. That's all." She said petulantly. "I don't like people laughing at me." She repeated her argument mechanically, her anger seeming forced, sputtering out like a tired match. Anger came easily to Katniss - it was her catch-all emotion for all the other subtler, more delicate emotions she did not allow herself to feel.

"No one was making fun of you, least of all me. If I didn't know any better, I would think you were jealous."

Katniss eyes widened before narrowing on me again.

"Jealous? Why would I be jealous? She's not…You don't like her in that way…do you?" she voice sank to a whisper.

Now it was my turn to be confused. "I thought you might be jealous of her breasts." An idea began to dawn on me, making my heart race. "But since we're on the subject, she is pretty hot."

Her silver eyes returned to their glittering slits of shrapnel, hurling their hatred towards me. "Well, you're free to like whoever you want. That's your business." She hissed.

"You're right." I said, observing her every movement, trying to get to the source of her unhappiness, hardly daring to believe what my eyes were telling me. "We're just friends, right? I mean, in public, we have to act the part but in private, we are both pretty free." I said, savoring each syllable and the effect it was having on her. There was a small part of me that derived a perverse satisfaction from seeing her so discomfited by the idea that someone else might find me desirable. "It seems to me that Johanna would be the type who knows how to be discreet." I sent this last parting salvo before releasing my hold on the door.

Katniss' face took on a look of deep concentration, that intimidating intensity that brought out her signature scowl, her eyes searching everywhere but my face.

"No." she said in a fierce whisper, which made me crease my brow in confusion.

"No?"

She looked at me and it was not with the rage she came with or the confusion she was just struggling with. There was something else, something so determined in her eyes, it made me instinctively wary, as if I had suddenly become one of the animals she hunted in the woods.

"No, you aren't doing what you just said." She said this, taking a step closer to me. "You're not sneaking around with Johanna Mason or anyone else for that matter."

I wanted to say something indignant, to tell her that just as she was free to go hopping around in the forest with Gale and ignore me for six long, punishing months, so I was free to avail myself of any mammaries that were cast my way. Except that it would be the biggest, most transparent lie because I knew that in the condition that I was, I would rather not know a woman than to know one that was not Katniss and it made me feel down right pathetic.

She saved me the embarrassment of verbalizing this because while I was lost in my thoughts, her lips were on mine with a tentative ferocity, as if she were warring with herself, one side of her plowing forward mindlessly while some part of her held her back. My shock lasted barely a moment before my hands were on her head, my lips returning the pressure with the heat of my own.

I was content to kiss her in this way but the wet insistence of her tongue pushed for more. I let my lips open slightly and soon she was kissing me with an aggressive ardor that made every nerve in my body catch fire. She snaked her arms around my neck, threading her fingers through my hair. It was bold, presumptuous, and even arrogant but also so incredibly hot, my skin went numb to every other sensation except her.

The rational part of me still tried to assert itself. This was Katniss, my dream, sure but also the most unpredictable human being I'd ever met. I'd been down this road, had my expectations brought up only to see them crushed under the well-worn heel of her hunting boot. I should be thinking about self-preservation. And there was the small fact that I loved her and I was positive she did not have the same certainty towards me. I was inviting heartbreak and suffering all over again. And yet, my hands had their own volition. They glided to her hips and rested, not sure how else she should be held but her body answered in response as she pressed the full length of herself against me.

There was too much longing and frustration and lost hope trapped inside of me to stop. I felt her assault, heard the whimpers emerge from the back of her throat. I was undone. I let my hands roam over her body, my fingers memorizing every curve of her slender frame, each swell and valley until I was gripping her to me. She released my battered lips and turned her head to the side as if in invitation and I kissed her neck, taking in the smell of her under all of the makeup and creams, nipping at a tender spot behind her ear which elicited a soft moan from her. Her head fell back, granting me greater access to the delicate skin of her collarbone, the exposed shoulders and chest fairly begging to be covered in wet, warm kisses.

Katniss did not spare me her impatience, even here and gripped my hair, directing me downward until my lips caressed the top swell of her breasts. I feared I was going too far and looked into her eyes, pleading for permission to explore, knowing that I should just shut the hell up and not break the mood but I could never take advantage of her like that.

She cocked her head to the side, her eyes lidded with longing and another feeling I did not dare to understand. Holding my gaze, she stepped back and shyly unclasped the bodice of her gown. There was a look of fear that momentarily flitted across her features before she let the jet black straps slide off of her shoulders. I caught them before the front slipped down completely.

"Katniss, you don't have to do this if you don't want to. I'm not going off with anyone else. I never could." I whisper.

She nodded her head slowly, taking me in for a moment before she whispered in response, "Okay."

At this, she let the heavy dress fall to the ground in a puddle of fabric and electrical components at her feet. I couldn't contain the gasp of shock when I saw how truly ravishing she was. She was Katniss, magnified, her dark hair elaborately braided, the fiery dark makeup highlighting the surreal clarity of her mercury-colored eyes, her olive skin glowing in the now dimming light of the evening sunset, burnishing the room in the fire of a warm orange glow. We had unleashed this slow burning blaze during the Victory parade and had slowly reabsorbed it and now it radiated into the night.

And her breasts. Those poor, maligned victims of Katniss' insecurity. They were perfectly rounded, small but full, their slight heaviness begging to be cradled, her dark nipples, so like her - dark, erect and defiant.

My eyes traveled down her flat stomach, my tongue longing to dip into the spiral of her belly button. Her underwear was a tiny little black thing that hinted at the prep team's work even there. Her legs were slender but well-muscled, from years of hunting and tree-climbing. She'd kicked off the ridiculously high heels, revealing her finely manicured toes painted black with a hint of red and yellow flames at the tip.

I extended my hand, which she took almost daintily and led her to the bed. I searched her face, hoping that she understood that she could stop whenever she wanted to. In response, she took my hands, putting them on her breasts and pulled me down to her to kiss her again. I touched them carefully, running my thumb over the nipple, which elicited a burst of air from her against my lips. I trailed my lips softly down to suckle one, lapping their roundness, savoring her skin. I dreamed of touching her in this way for so long. Katniss' hands were in my hair as I became bold, kneading one as I worried the other, alternating my attentions.

She was moaning in her deep, husky voice, a sound so sexy that my clothes became unbearable. I pulled the heavy vest off of me, fumbling with my pants as her hands ran over my chest, followed by her greedy lips, leaving a trail of heat over my chest. She kissed my nipples, an unexpected feeling coursing through me like fireworks and lava all rolled together until I was reduced to instinct, my hands taking her braid and coiling it around my fingers to tug on it. The blood roared in my ears when her small hands pushed my pants down my hips, underwear and all, my cock springing free and tapping her belly, making her pull back in surprise. At that moment, I knew she had never seen an aroused man before and I quailed momentarily at all the implications.

She reached out and took me gently in hand, more curious than aroused, stroking her hands slowly along my length. Whatever her intention, the feel of her skin on the smooth tip, running her hand down the shaft and up again made me wince with an exquisite discomfort and I thrust myself into her hand instinctively. This caused her to look up at me with a half-smile as she stroked me rhythmically just a bit too hard.

"This is how I like it." I whispered, putting my hand over hers and gliding her hand up and down. She nodded and followed suit, while I kissed her, kneading her bottom, until I came close to the edge. I removed her hand from me and pushed her gently down onto the bed, reclining next to her, ravaging her mouth all the while as my hands flitted across her belly, up her ribs, cupping her breasts again. My hands ghosted gently down to her fine underwear and probed under the waistband to touch her, both of us bucking at the feel of my fingers slipping into her wet folds. It excited me that she was so wet and it was just for me.

I searched for that place that the guys in school always talked about when they were exchanging their limited experiences about girls, my fingers sliding up and down until a certain spot made Katniss arch off of the bed, a noisy groan escaping her lips. I buried her moans with my mouth as I applied a gentle pressure there. I knew I was onto something when Katniss pressed her hips into my hands, whispering my name in my ear over and over while I continued applying pressure, trying not to be too rough but, having no frame of reference, relying entirely on her body's reaction to guide my movements. Suddenly, the most amazing thing in the world happened and Katniss body began to shudder, tremors overtaking her. My name became a loud shout mixed with breathless moans as she squeezed her legs shut around my hands until she seemed to literally melt in my hands.

She almost purred as she curled herself into my side, burrowing her head into my shoulder. In the meantime, I felt like a giant brick had landed in my belly, the pressure of my own arousal making me physically ache. She reached up to kiss me languidly and suddenly, I felt the feather-light touch of her hand over my throbbing cock, causing my ache to become a full-on throbbing. She gripped me, again too tightly but then, remembering my "lesson" from earlier, she used long, firm strokes instead, her thumb applying pressure underneath in just the way that made me forget everything except her name. I groaned and shuddered with the feeling of Katniss' hands on me. I put my hand over hers so that she was pumping me, bringing me closer to the edge of the world.

Her breasts were pressed against me and I kneading them, her wonderful breasts that had started all of this, until I felt the unmistakable flood of heat and release as I came all over my belly, emptying out what felt like an eternity of longing. Katniss looked at her hand with a smug expression, studying my stickiness. She got up quietly and I had an agonizing moment where I thought she might just leave, that I might have gone too far but she returned a few minutes later with a wet towel and carefully cleaned me. Every muscle in my body felt fluid and warm, the heat of contentment flowing through me.

Katniss said nothing but her hands were not still. She ran her finger over my forehead, down the bridge of my nose; the small indentation over my lips to the cleft of my chin, where she let it rest. At that moment, she looked down at me, considering something. "Can we do that again?" she asked.

"Oh, wow, yes, always, all the time, anytime you want!" I gasped excitedly, eliciting a laugh from her.

"No Johanna?" she asked hesitantly.

"No. No Johanna. No nobody. Just you." I respond with all my heart.

Satisfied, Katniss snuggled back down next to me, assuming our usual position. "Good." She whispered as she drifted off to sleep.


End file.
